


Saving Arthur Ketch

by SupernaturallyObsessed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e22 Who We Are, Gen, Ketch Just Needs a Hug, Out of Character Ketch, Relationship is platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturallyObsessed/pseuds/SupernaturallyObsessed
Summary: Mary makes an unexpected decision and doesn’t shoot Ketch in the head. She learned a lot during the short time she spent under the BMoL’s brainwashing and so she offers Ketch a chance at a more normal life. (At least as normal as life with the Winchesters can be.) Mary may have good intentions but Sam and Dean aren’t so sure about her plans and Ketch doesn’t know if he deserves to be saved. Will Mary’s kind heart and determination be enough or will Ketch succumb to the darkness inside of him?(This story picks up during Ketch’s fight with Dean in 12.22 and is divergent from just before the end of the episode.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've become rather enamored with Ketch and, as much as I knew it wouldn't happen, I kind of wanted to see a redemption arc for him at the end of the season.

Arthur Ketch smiled gleefully as he punched Dean Winchester again. Some people said you should never hit a man when he was down but Ketch didn’t really see the point in that theory. Of course you should hit a man when he was down. When he was weak. That was exactly what Ketch had been trained to do.

“You want to know what your mother said about you, Dean? All those long days and even longer nights, out on the road, hunting,” Ketch taunted. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s shirt. “Absolutely nothing.”

Ketch couldn’t help laughing, even after Dean managed to throw him onto a table which crashed to the floor. This was the Brit’s idea of fun, evening entertainment. There was a reason he hadn’t just pulled out his gun right away. He preferred to get his hands dirty and be able to enjoy the feeling of bones breaking under his fists.

He didn’t expect Dean to hit back though. Not once Ketch had him trapped against the wall with a broken table leg. Damn Winchesters. Always had to make things harder than they needed to be. No matter. The hit across the face with the splintered wood hurt like hell but there was no way Ketch was going to lose.

It was clear to him at that point though that the time for fun and games had come to an end. He grabbed his gun and turned back around to face Dean. Ketch had to give the man credit; even in the face of death he still managed to look defiant.

When the bullet went through his right shoulder Ketch was in so much shock he didn’t even feel the pain right away. He turned around and saw Mary standing there with a gun in her hands and a fierce look on her face and he knew that was it for him. The gun fell from his limp arm and he dropped to his knees, blood running down his hand from his wounded shoulder. Dean kicked Ketch’s gun away but it didn’t matter to him. The Brit wasn’t stupid. He knew there was no way they’d let him live after what he’d done. He didn’t stand a chance with or without a weapon.

“I knew you were a killer,” he said, wanting to have the upper hand, even in his last moments. “You both are.”

“You’re right,” Dean said after a moment. He may have resisted that fact before but he’d started to come to terms with it.

“Well that depends on you,” Mary replied, earning a surprised look from both her son and Ketch.

“What?” the two men asked at the same time.

“You’re expecting me to kill you, and I might,” Mary explained. “But whether I do or not depends on you, Ketch. It depends on what you would do if I didn’t kill you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ketch admitted. “Whether you let me go or not the British Men of Letters are going to come after you.”

“Actually they won’t,” Sam said, stepping into the room and walking up to his family. “We just killed the rest of them and blew up your base.” He looked over and saw Toni’s dead body. “You’re the last of your kind. There may be more back in England but I doubt anyone else would be stupid enough to come here now.”

“What…?” Ketch dropped lower in shock, his ass now touching his ankles. He couldn’t decide if he should be happy or devastated by the news. The British Men of Letters had destroyed him; turned an innocent boy into a coldhearted killing machine. At the same time, however, they had given him a life and a purpose. They had given him a home and a reason to keep living at a time when he felt he had lost everything. Now it was all gone and he didn’t know what to think.

“Arthur,” a soft voice said, bringing his attention back to the present. He looked up—when had his gaze dropped to the floor?—and saw Mary crouched down a few feet in front of him. Dean was holding her gun and Sam had a weapon of his own trained on him. “Somewhere, under all of that torture and conditioning and mind numbing drugs, is a different you. I saw glimpses of it before but I didn’t understand it at the time. Now though I think I do.” She shifted a little closer and held out her hand. “Let us help you.”

“Mom!” Dean tried to protest but Mary silenced him with a stern look and then turned back to Ketch.

“You don’t have to let them control you anymore, Arthur,” she said. “There’s another way.” Everyone in the room was still and utterly silent for a minute. Finally though, Ketch gave a slight nod of his head.

“O…okay,” he said, his voice shaking.

************************

After Ketch's agreement to work with them, everyone split up. Sam cleaned and patched up Dean's face and re-bandaged his knee. Then the two men went outside and took care of Toni's body. After some debate they decided to give her a hunter's funeral. She'd been an vile bitch to both of them in the past but in the end she helped them out and worked to bring Mary back. Plus they didn't feel like having her ghost haunt the bunker if she wasn't properly salted and burned.

While that was happening, Mary gathered medical supplies and took Ketch into a spare bedroom, closing the door partially but not all the way. Ketch’s injuries needed to be tended to and she figured some privacy would do him good. They could worry about cleaning up the library later.

“What are you going to do to me?” Ketch asked while Mary was cleaning the wounds on his face. He was so confused. Everything was wrong in his head and he just wanted it all to stop.

“Right now I'm going to take care of these injuries and then let you get some rest,” Mary answered.

“What? No handcuffs or prison cells?” Ketch scoffed.

“That’s probably what Dean would like to do,” Mary said with a small smile. “I don’t think you’ll hurt us though.” She finished cleaning his face and helped him out of his jacket and shirt so that she could take care of his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t trust me.”

“I don’t believe that. In only a few days you were able to brainwash me enough to kill fellow hunters and threaten my boys,” Mary said as she threaded a needle and started to stitch up Ketch’s injury. It was a clean shot all the way through but she figured a few stitches on each side couldn’t hurt. “You were following Dr. Hess and the rest of the British Men of Letters for years. Now they’re gone and so you have a chance to be your own person.”

“I am my own person,” he sneered. “The Men of Letters simply keep me busy and provide a path for me where I can help the world.” Suddenly Ketch reached up and wrapped a hand around Mary’s neck, squeezing slightly. “I could kill you right now,” he said. “I probably should. You betrayed the Code.” He’d wanted it to sound serious but he couldn’t stop his voice from breaking a little at the end.

“You let her go this instant or I swear to God I will shoot you somewhere you won’t recover from,” Dean said, throwing the door open and holding out his gun. Ketch released Mary but Dean didn’t lower his weapon.

“Dean, put the gun down,” Mary said, working hard to keep her tone even.

“Mom he almost killed you,” Dean protested. “Again!” Mary stood up from the bed and walked over to her son.

“I know, honey, but he didn’t. He wasn’t going to. He’s just confused right now but we can help.”

“Seriously? After everything he’s done you want to give him another chance?”

“He’s right you know. You should just shoot me,” Ketch said, looking down at the floor. He couldn’t even manage to look Mary in the eyes. “I’m not worth it. I’m just a dog, and dogs don’t get ‘fixed’ when they mess up. They get put down.”

“Okay, no one is shooting anybody, alright?” Mary said sternly. She placed her hands over Dean’s and eased them down so the gun was no longer pointed at Ketch. “We are all civilized human beings and we are going to handle this like adults.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded. “I’ll be in the kitchen. You deal with your new friend.” With that he stormed out of the room and down the halls.

“Sorry about that,” Mary said, closing the door again, fully that time.

“I don’t understand why you suddenly have so much faith in me, Mary.”

“It’s like I said earlier; I think I understand you more now.” She sat down on the bed again to finish patching up Ketch’s shoulder. “I also saw a different side of you before. Cracks in the walls you’ve put up.”

“When did you see anything decent about me?”

“Well, for one, when we were fighting after I found out about Mick you were going to snap my neck but you hesitated,” Mary explained, sharing the first memory that came to mind. “I know how quickly and calmly you can kill but you didn’t. Some part of you didn’t want to.” Ketch was silent for a minute, thinking about what had been said.

“So what? You’re going to try and rehabilitate me into being a perfect American hunter?” he sneered, changing the subject slightly.

“No. I’m going to try to remind you how to be a normal person again,” Mary clarified. “What you do after that is your own decision.”

Ketch knew he wasn’t deserving of such kindness but he just lowered his head and didn’t say anything. Mary had clearly made up her mind on the issue. She’d realize her mistake soon enough.

“There you go,” Mary said, taping some gauze over Ketch’s wounds. “That should heal up just fine.”

“Thank you,” Ketch said quietly.

“Let me go ask Sam for some spare clothes so that you don’t have to sleep in that suit.”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept in worse.” Mary waved off Ketch’s disagreements.

“Arthur, it’s not a problem,” she said. “Sam only needs one shirt at a time. I’m sure he’d be fine letting you borrow something.” Before Ketch had a chance to say anything else Mary was off the bed and out the door. She came back five or ten minutes later with a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tshirt in her hands. “You can wear these for now. We’ll have to get you some clothes of your own later.”

“I wouldn’t have expected either of your sons to want to help me,” Ketch said honestly. He pulled the shirt over his head but figured he’d wait until Mary left to change his pants. She had seen him bare before but he didn’t need that humiliation right then.

“Okay. Try to get some rest,” Mary said, walking back to the door. “There’s a bathroom down the hall to the left and my room is a few doors down on the right. If I’m not there I’ll probably be in the library.”

“You aren’t going to be stationed outside my door?”

“Do I need to be?”

“I don’t know.” It was a truthful answer.

“Well then I won’t be. Dean might try to check on you though.” Ketch nodded. He deserved that. Just because Mary was crazy enough to trust him didn’t mean her sons would be. “I’ll see you later, Arthur. Let me know if you need anything.” Mary gave a small smile and left the room, closing the door behind her. When she was outside she leaned back against the door. Was she doing the right thing?

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up I added some more tags. Nothing too major but wanted to let you know!

Ketch slept fitfully. He was in a Men of Letters bunker—a real one, not the temporary one the London chapter had set up in America—so he should have felt comfortable. Instead he felt more out of place than he had in a long time. The only time in his life that he had felt worse than this was his first night at Kendrick’s after his parents abandoned him.

After an hour and a half Ketch got out of bed and hobbled down the hallway to the bathroom. He’d taken many trips to this bunker—most of which the Winchesters didn’t know about—so he already knew his way around. He groaned as he walked. His fight with Dean had left him sore and worn out. 

Once he’d relieved himself and splashed some water on his face Ketch went off to find Mary since he figured she was the only one who would be willing to talk to him. He heard noise coming from the kitchen and decided to head that way but ended up running into Sam. 

“Oh, hey, Ketch,” the younger Winchester said, turning around from his spot at the stove. 

“Apologies. I was looking for your mother,” Ketch explained quickly. “I’ll get out of your way.” He moved to leave the room again but Sam stopped him.

“Dude, it’s alright. You don’t have to run away,” Sam said.

“I would have assumed you’d want me dead just as much as your brother.” Sam shrugged and flipped something over in a pan.

“I’m not going to lie and say I like you but Mom sees something in you and so I’m willing to be civil for right now.” Ketch was surprised by that admission. 

“I tried to kill you and your brother,” the Brit deadpanned.

“Yeah but so has Cas a time or two and we still like him.” Sam turned off the stove and placed the grilled cheese sandwich he had just made on a plate. “You hungry?”

“You don’t have to worry about cooking for me…” Ketch trailed off when his stomach growled loudly. Now that he thought about it he hadn’t eaten in quite awhile.

“I suppose you’re too prim and proper to enjoy something as common as a grilled cheese?” Sam asked, offering the plate with a chuckle.

“That would be fine,” Ketch said, accepting the offered sandwich. “Thank you,” he added softly. For a man who prided himself on his calm, emotionless demeanor Ketch had no idea how to feel right then. He’d been confused since the moment Mary had said she might not kill him.

“You’re welcome.” Sam gave a small smile and went to get ingredients to make another sandwich. He didn’t like the British assassin and he definitely didn’t trust him, but if Mick could learn to think outside of this stupid Code maybe Ketch could too.

 

************************

 

The evening had progressed and eventually everyone had gone to sleep for the night. Ketch, however, found himself in bed unable to actually sleep again. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was almost three o’clock in the morning. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anytime soon he got up and padded softly to the kitchen, hoping the Winchesters might have some tea in the cupboards that he could make to sooth his mind. He wasn’t sure if he was really supposed to be walking around on his own while everyone was in their rooms but if he continued staring at the ceiling any longer he would go crazy.

To Ketch’s surprise there was already a person in the kitchen. Mary was sitting with her back to the doorway and looking at some type of journal. Ketch stood there awkwardly before clearing his throat to get Mary’s attention.

“Arthur, how are you?” she asked with a soft smile when she turned around to see him.

“I’m alright,” he replied in his crisp accent. “Couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d see if you lot had some tea.”

“We do, actually,” Mary answered. She stood up and walked over to one of the cupboards where she pulled out a few tins. “Sam and I both drink it fairly often. Dean does too once in a while although he won’t admit it.” She added the last bit with a chuckle. “Hopefully something is to your liking.” Ketch picked up the basic camomile and then started boiling some water.

The two adults stood silently, Ketch focusing on the tea kettle and Mary looking around aimlessly. It was awkward but neither one was sure how best to break the tension. 

“What are you reading?” Ketch asked finally. There had been a time he’d been so close with Mary but of course that had been completely destroyed when he chose his programing over their relationship. He wasn’t even sure why he was still trying. She’d just throw him out eventually.

“Oh. It’s…it’s John’s journal.” It was clear from her tone that Mary was a bit uncomfortable and Ketch silently chastised himself for managing to even screw up simple small talk. It was like he’d been told all his life; he was toxic. 

Mary took a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t fully trust Ketch, not anymore, but saving him had been her idea. If she wanted her boys to start being more open with him she needed to be the example.

“John was my husband, before I died,” she explained. “When I…when I came back I had a lot of blanks to fill. Sam gave me this as a way to learn a lot of the things I had missed during that time.”

“And what about now? I know you always wear that ring on your necklace. Is John…?”

“He’s dead,” Mary answered quickly, sitting back down. “Ten years now according to Dean.” 

Silence descended on the room again and this time Ketch didn’t try to break it. He turned his attention back to the boiling water and set about making his tea. The mugs here were simple porcelain—not fine china like he was used to—but he found he didn’t particularly care.

“Ketch…” Mary started. “Arthur,” she corrected. “I know…I know things ended badly between us, but you’re safe here. Come sit. Relax a little. You look like a deer trapped in headlights.” Ketch did as requested, taking his teacup and sitting down across from Mary.

“I am sorry, you know,” the Brit admitted. “For what happened to you. I hated seeing you like that.” He took a sip of his tea, thankful for the small comfort and familiarity it provided. “I know that doesn’t mean very much coming from me but it’s true.”

“I believe you. That time in the cell. I could tell you weren’t as stoic and emotionless as you had been other times we’d talked in the past.” Ketch simply nodded, unsure how to respond. Mary sighed and placed a hand over one of Ketch’s. “I know I’ve barely scratched the surface of what’s under that mask of yours but we can figure this out, Arthur. I promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure where this story is going but I finally got something more written so I figured I'd post it. Don't know when the next update will be.


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke up the next morning Ketch felt a little more focused. He might be in a different chapter house but he was still a Man of Letters. There was still a chain of command and a system to follow; they were just a little different from what he was used to.

He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush he found in the medicine cabinet and headed to the library to start cleaning up. He already knew that would be one of his expected duties even if Mary hadn’t yet told him. To Ketch’s surprise, however, when he walked into the library he found all three Winchesters already there working to take care of the mess that had been made. Apparently they woke up even earlier than he did.

“I can take care of this,” Ketch said, announcing his presence.

“It’s okay,” Sam said, turning around to look at him. “You’re hurt. Focus on healing.”

“I assure you I am well enough to perform my duties, whatever you wish those to be,” Ketch replied. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had spent years working his way up the ranks of the British Men of Letters and had made it to a point where there were only a few people he had to take orders from. Most of the time he was the one giving orders. All of the sudden he was back to being on the bottom of the chain and having to serve others. To make matters even worse, it was the Winchesters he would have to serve, the people who had caused this whole mess in the first place.

“Dude, Dean nearly beat your face in and you got shot in the shoulder. You can take a break for a few days,” Sam insisted. Dean grunted in annoyance but didn’t argue.

“Fine. If I am not expected to clean up the mess I created then how do you wish to punish me?” Ketch asked, working hard to keep his tone neutral.

“What?” Mary asked, joining the conversation. “Arthur we aren’t going to ‘punish’ you.” The look on her face was a mix of confusion and concern.

“I don’t understand.” Mary sighed, not knowing what to do with the information she was receiving.

“Why don’t I get you something to eat?” she suggested instead. “Sam are you boys okay here?”

“Yeah, Mom. We got this.” Sam gave Mary a quick hug and then watched as she walked towards the kitchen with Ketch following behind her.

“Do you like bacon and eggs?” Mary asked, looking at what the boys had in the fridge.

“That's fine,” Ketch responded. He sat down and watched as Mary got everything ready and started to cook.

“Scrambled okay?”

“Yes.” The two adults were silent after that until Mary came over with two plates of food. She placed them on the table and then filled two glasses with water and brought those over as well.

“Talk to me, Ketch,” Mary said as she started to eat.

“What do you want to know?” Ketch didn’t miss the return to his last name.

“Why did you expect me to be planning to punish you? I thought we were making progress when we talked earlier.”

“Because that's what happens,” Ketch explained blankly. “When someone disobeys an order or fails in their duties then they’re punished accordingly.” Although he wasn’t feeling all that hungry Ketch slowly started to eat his food. “I was lost before. You threw me off kilter briefly but I remember my place now.”

“Your place is whatever you want it to be, Arthur,” Mary insisted. “You’re a person, just like the rest of us. You must know that you were brainwashed. All of this talk of punishment and hierarchy and a Code are bull. From the little you told me about I imagine they were drilled into your head for decades. It’s going to be a process to move past that.” Despite her talk, Mary felt overwhelmed by the daunting task in front of her. ‘Motherly instincts’ were great but she wasn’t sure if they’d really stretch to helping a recovering psychopath.

“Are you trying to tell me you actually have a formal plan for how to deal with me?” Ketch asked, a lack of belief clear in his tone. When Mary didn’t answer right away the Brit rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a clue what to do in this situation, do you?” he asked. It wasn’t accusatory; just honest.

“I can’t say this exact issue has come up before, no. But Sam told me about the progress they were able to make with Mick so it must be possible.”

“I’m not sure how confident I can be in your plans if you’re using Mick for a model,” Ketch said dismissively. “We both know where he ended up.”

Mary let out a small sigh. She couldn’t really argue with Ketch. The man made valid points. She didn’t know what to do and Mick hadn’t been as far gone. She only knew the bare minimum of what Ketch had probably gone through and he most likely wouldn’t remember it all to fill in the blanks. She also still didn’t know everything Ketch had done. She had some support from Sam but that was still tentative and Dean was definitely opposed to this whole idea. It was impossible for her to not consider the thought that she’d made a terrible choice.

“You’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing,” Mary admitted. “But we’ll figure it out. You’re not a baby. I don’t need to do everything for you. We just need to talk about things so you can try to see situations from our point of view.”

“Why are you even doing this?” Ketch asked, finally voicing the question that had been on his mind since the beginning. “Am I just some lost puppy or broken toy to you?”

“Arthur, that’s not it. I’m not trying to ‘fix’ you,” Mary answered. “We spent a lot of time together over the past few months. I don’t like killing people if I don’t have to and, for whatever reason, I think I see enough ability to change in you to make it worth it to give you a second chance.”

“And if you’re wrong and I can’t be changed?” Ketch already knew the answer to his question but he had to say it anyway. Had to make sure Mary was aware of the position she’d put herself in.

“If I’m wrong, then I will take you down. If you hurt anyone from now on? That’s on me; and I’ll be the one to deal with it.”

 

************************

After breakfast Sam offered to take Ketch with him on a supply run so that they could get the man some new clothes. It isn’t easy to feel like your own person when you have to be borrowing someone else’s clothes all the time and Sam understood that.

“So I’m not on lockdown, then? Ketch asked when he and Sam were in the bunker’s garage. He had changed back into his dress pants and button down shirt although he’d left the tie and jacket in his room because they seemed unnecessary at that point. He didn’t have to maintain the perfect image of the Men of Letters anymore.

“You aren’t a prisoner, Ketch,” Sam said, opening the door of the Impala and sliding behind the wheel. He knew Dean would probably hate having the British assassin in his car but Sam wasn’t about to drive one of the antiques and Mary was even more overprotective of her wheels then Dean was. “I mean, we probably won’t trust you to leave on your own just yet but you aren’t going to be locked away in the dungeon.”

Ketch just shrugged and sat down in the passenger seat. It was odd, suddenly spending so much time with Sam. He’d barely interacted with the man before this whole ordeal and--although he had read his files--Ketch felt like he didn’t know the younger Winchester all that well. 

“You know,” Sam said after they had been driving for about ten minutes. “I kind of understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well obviously I don’t know the exact situation but I feel like we have some similarities.”

“In what way would that be?” Ketch asked, his tone making it clear that he didn’t believe a word of what he was being told.

“I don’t know if this was in that file you had on me, but about six years ago I was walking around without a soul,” Sam explained. “That was the case for a little over a year. So for that whole time I didn’t really have a moral compass. I felt like the ends justified the means and all that, you know? As long as the monster got taken down it didn’t matter what I did or who I hurt along the way.” Sam didn’t know everything about the Code the Brits followed but from what he understood it was a pretty similar set of principles. 

Ketch was silent for a few minutes, trying to gather his thoughts. He actually hadn’t been aware of Sam’s soullessness. It probably hadn’t even been in the file because even with their intense surveillance the British Men of Letters had no real way of knowing about it.

“Was it strange?” Ketch asked finally.

“What? Not having a soul?” Sam answered. 

“No. Getting it back.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there has mostly just been a lot of talking so far. I'll try to have some action in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I’ve also been working on a Ketch origin story (called “Crafting a Killer”) but decided to delete that and just work those ideas into this story instead. So if anything in this chapter sounds a bit familiar and you read the other story then that’s why.
> 
> 2\. Bit of a longer chapter this time. Hope you enjoy!

Arthur struggled as he was strapped down to the freezing cold, metal table. The only piece of clothing he’d been allowed to wear was a pair of skin-tight shorts that came to mid thigh. The strip of fabric just barely accomplished its task of protecting his modesty but it did almost nothing to make him warm or comfortable.

“Stay still,” Dr. Hess hissed. “You know it will only be worse if you fight us.”

“But I hate these sessions,” the twelve year old sobbed, his hazel eyes wet with unshed tears. “Why can't I have normal lessons like the other students?”

“Because you are not like the other students and you never will be,” the headmistress answered, unfazed by the boy’s plea. 

It took the head doctor and two assistants but finally they were able to get Arthur fully secured and gagged. The mouth guard was for his own protection as well as theirs.

“We’re ready, Dr. Hess,” the head doctor said, waiting for instructions.

“You may begin.”

The doctor filled a syringe with a horrendous, green liquid. As soon as Arthur saw what the doctor was holding he started shaking and trying to pull free of the restraints, even though he knew it was pointless. He was so tightly secured though that the struggle hardly mattered and the doctor easily slipped the needle into a vein in his arm. Through the gag some sobbing could be heard as Arthur waited for the inevitable.

“GGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs when the acid set in and began burning its way through his body.

“Control yourself, Arthur,” Dr. Hess chided. “We’ve barely gotten started.”

 

************************

 

Ketch jolted awake, acutely aware that there was a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. He hadn’t had nightmares about Kendricks in years. It had only been a short time and already the blasted Winchesters were dredging up old memories he didn’t want to remember.

It was only five o’clock in the morning--earlier than Ketch was used to getting up--but he knew there was no way he’d be falling asleep again. Rather than lay in bed he decided to head down to the shower room and clean off.

The warm water helped to relax Ketch’s tense muscles and made him feel more awake. While he scrubbed the sweat from his body Ketch couldn't stop himself from thinking about the countless conditioning and training sessions he had been forced to undergo as a student and also occasionally since his graduation. All students went through some level of conditioning to make sure they would follow orders and, in order to graduate, students also needed to prove they were able to withstand pain without breaking in case they were ever captured and tortured for information. The way those two things were accomplished was not particularly pleasant. His training had been even more intense, however, because he was going to be an assassin. No thoughts. No emotions. Just an ice cold killing machine. 

He'd started at Kendricks when he was ten years old. At first all of his classes and training sessions were relatively normal. Things changed, however, the day after his twelfth birthday. Apparently the drugs weren't safe for children under twelve otherwise they would have started earlier. Once a week he would be called down for special sessions with Dr. Hess. Some days he would be stripped, strapped down to a table, and pumped full of chemicals that altered his mind and body. Other days would be spent in advanced fight training. There were also some days where he was tested in one aspect or another. He was tested on his ability to follow the code, his knowledge of different subjects, as well as his ability to extract information from creatures or--sometimes--other students.

When Ketch did well he was praised and rewarded but when he failed his punishments were swift and severe.

The more sessions he had, the better behaved he became. As pain and fear and sadness were wiped from him he stopped resisting so much. Eventually he voluntarily put himself on the doctor's table. He didn't always like what happened to him but he'd learned that it was easier if he just surrendered himself to the torture.

 

************************

 

Three days after Ketch moved in to the bunker Mary asked if he wanted to join her on a hunt. 

“It's most likely just a ghost so nothing too exciting but it's the closest hunt I could find and I know you're probably climbing the walls,” she explained. 

“I wasn't usually sent out on simple hauntings,” Ketch replied, sounding a bit offended at the suggestion. 

“Well it's that or we drive six hours to Cheyenne, Wyoming for a djinn but I don't think I'm in the right headspace for that so you'd have to go with Sam or Dean.” It was clear what she was trying to do and Ketch scowled.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I'll get my jacket.”

Mary said goodbye to her sons, packed up a bag of gear and checked that she had a full box of salt in her trunk and then they hit the road.

“So how did you join the Men of Letters?” Mary asked once they were on the highway. “Are you a Legacy?”

“Are we really going to engage in this useless chit chat?”

“Come on, we’ve got an hour and a half drive ahead of us we need something to do,” Mary answered. “Besides, it’s not useless small talk. It’s getting to know each other. That’s what normal people do, you know.” Ketch sighed. He supposed Mary had a point. He’d always had trouble denying her anything anyway.

“No, I’m not a Legacy,” he said. His voice was a bit tight but not enough so that Mary noticed.

“Why did you go to Kendricks then?” Ketch shifted in his seat a bit. He hadn’t told anyone this story in quite awhile and opening up wasn’t exactly easy for him.

“It happened after I was expelled from public school for hitting a teacher,” he explained. 

Ketch paused but Mary stayed silent, hoping that would encourage him to keep talking. It usually worked with Dean.

“You must understand, I was an only child born to parents who didn’t want children,” he began talking again after a minute to gather his thoughts. “They weren’t abusive or anything but I had to work very hard to garner their attention. Usually that meant doing well in things but, when that didn’t work, it meant breaking rules. In school I often got into fights and after a few times of getting beaten up I decided to get stronger so that I could take down the bullies myself. School administrators and my parents were not very happy with me but I didn’t care. Hitting a teacher was the last straw apparently and I was promptly expelled. About a week later my parents told me at dinner that I would be going to a boarding school. The next morning they drove me to Kendricks and dropped me at the front gates. That was the last time I ever saw them.”

“Arthur…” Mary said sadly. 

“Save your pity, Mary. I neither need nor want it,” Ketch said coldly. The whole time he had been talking he’d been starting straight out the windshield and his attention still didn’t waver.

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

Silence fell over the car again at that point and lasted until Mary turned on the radio. 

Eventually Mary parked outside of a small history museum in Salina, Kansas.

“Are we going to be impersonating federal agents as you American hunters seem so keen on doing?” Ketch asked.

“Not this time,” Mary replied with a chuckle. “Just civilians asking mostly innocent questions.” She got out of the car and Ketch followed. 

“I see.”

“The people all died in an abandoned house that has seen its fair share of tragedies and death. The only reason the house is still standing is because of its historical significance. There are a few suspects of who might be the restless spirit haunting the place. The question is just which one it is. Hopefully someone here might be able to point us in the right direction.” Mary and Ketch browsed the museum politely for a short while before approaching the manager and asking some questions.

“We found the display on the Fairview house particularly interesting,” Ketch told the older man. 

“Oh, yes. Such a tragedy what happened there,” the man said in response.

“Something happened?” Mary asked, feigning ignorance.

“You haven’t heard the news?”

“We’re tourists,” she explained. “Just arrived today.”

“Ah. You picked a bad time I’m afraid. There were three deaths in the house over the last two weeks.”

“Are there any ideas who could have done this?”

“Rational ideas? No.”

“And irrational ideas?” Ketch pushed. 

“Some people think it’s the ghost of Lily Chambers,” the manager told them. “She used to live in the house many decades ago until she was murdered by her father. Rumor is that every year during the month when she was killed she comes back and kills any single males crazy enough to go in the house.” Mary and Ketch exchanged a glance.

“One more question, would you happen to know where Lily was buried?” Mary asked.

“She wasn’t. The police never found the body.” Ketch scoffed. Maybe this was a wild goose chase after all.

“Then how do you know she was murdered?” the Brit asked.

“Her father confessed. The police were able to find Lily’s blood in the basement but they never found her body. They questioned her father repeatedly but he wouldn’t tell. Only said that he put her back where no one would ever find her.”

“Thank you so much for your time,” Mary said sincerely. “We truly enjoyed the museum.” On the way out she dropped a tip in the box by the door.

“Well that wasn’t especially eye opening,” Ketch snarked when they were back in the car. “What do we do now?”

“Now we get some lunch and do more research.”

“Fair enough.”

“Listen to this,” Mary said while they were sitting at the restaurant and waiting for their food to be delivered. “Apparently Lily Chambers wasn’t born in a hospital. She was born in the basement of her house. Her mother died during childbirth and her father always blamed Lily for her death and was never particularly nice to her.”

“You think he got annoyed, murdered her, and hid her in the basement?” Ketch guessed, seeing where Mary’s train of thought was most likely going.

“Exactly.”

“A-hunting we will go?” Ketch joked.

Once Mary and Ketch finished lunch they headed to the Fairview house, parking in a lot further down the street in attempts to raise less suspicion. The house was technically off limits and, unlike usual, they were doing this during the daylight hours.

“Alright, I know the Men of Letters had a lot of fancy toys but this is what we’ve got today,” Mary said, giving Ketch a run-down of what she’d packed. “Shotgun. Filled with salt rounds. Dissipates ghosts and, if someone is possessed by a ghost, knocks the spirit out without killing the person they’re wearing. There’s salt and iron but I think those are self explanatory. I’ve also got lighter fluid and matches for when we find the body.”

Finding the body was surprisingly easy. As soon as Mary and Ketch got in the house they headed straight for the basement. It took a little while but eventually Mary moved a bookcase and found a second of floorboards in the corner that weren’t quite the same size and shade of wood as the rest of the boards in the room. Ketch grabbed an iron fire poker Mary had packed and went over to smash in the floorboards. As soon as the tool pierced the floor he was thrown across the room.

“Ketch!” Mary shouted when she saw the man smash into a concrete wall. She was caught between checking on her partner and trying to find the bones.

“Ugh,” Ketch groaned as he started to sit up. “I'm fine, Mary. Focus on the job.” The Brit slowly stood back up. His back hurt but luckily he’d managed to not hit his head. He made his way back to Mary just in time for the ghost to fizzle into existence. Before Mary had a chance to pump her shotgun Ketch swung his fire poker through the ghost, making it disappear for the time being. “Huh. Low-budget but surprisingly useful.”

“Thanks for the stellar review,” Mary scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

With both Mary and Ketch working on breaking through the floorboards the task was a bit easier. Mr. Chambers had apparently used an extra strong sealant. After each getting tossed around a few more times they managed to create a big enough whole. 

“Well there are definitely bones down there,” Mary said, picking up the bottle of lighter fluid. “Hopefully they're Lily’s.”

“Get away!” a voice hissed. Lily was back and she was not happy. 

“I've got her. Take care of the bones,” Letch shouted, swinging at the ghost again. Mary poured salt and lighter fluid as quickly as she could and then struck a match and dropped it. Lily had been about to throw Ketch again but she suddenly burst into flames and burned away.

“Nice work,” Mary said, working to catch her breath.

“We always did make a good team,” Ketch snarked. Mary gave the man a quick once over and saw that he was hunched over a bit. 

“Come on, let’s get back to the car. You might need medical attention. You got tossed around a lot.”

“It’s nothing I can’t live with. A hot shower and some rest and I’ll be good as new,” Ketch brushed her off. “You’re a different story,” he added, motioning to the cut on her forehead.  
“Well I’ve got a small first aid kit in the trunk. Anything bigger we can take care of back at the bunker.” They quickly cleaned up and left the house.

“Thank you, Mary,” Ketch said as they were walking back to the car. “It was...nice, hunting with you again.” Mary turned and gave the man a small smile. Maybe they were making progress.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not use the possible existence of Alexander in this fic, I’m not sure yet. For right now, though, Arthur is not close enough to Mary or the boys to share that information if I do decide to use it. So as far as everyone knows at the moment, he was an only child. We’ll see what happens later ;)
> 
> Also, I have no idea if there is a small history museum in Salina. The town was just a good distance from the bunker so I used some artistic license.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay between chapters. I was having a lot of trouble writing this. I'm still not sure if I'm totally happy with it but oh well. Let me know what you think!

Unfortunately, the progress Mary had begun to see with Ketch didn’t last very long. Tensions had been brewing in the bunker since the moment she told the former British Man of Letters that she wouldn’t kill him and things came to a head a few days after their hunt together. She’d managed to convince Sam and Dean to find a hunt that all four of them could go on and now they were in a motel room discussing the facts they had so far.

“Looks like we might be dealing with a psychic,” Sam said, flipping through the case files they’d taken from the police. 

“Hey, that reminds me, maybe we should check in with Magda,” Dean chimed in. “See how she’s doing with her aunt in California.”

“She’s dead,” Ketch said flatly, not looking up from the gun he was cleaning on one of the beds. 

“Excuse me?” Dean asked.

“She bled out from gunshot wounds on the floor of a bathroom in Pleasant Valley, Missouri.”

“And you know this how?” 

“Because I’m the one that shot her.” There was still no emotion in Ketch’s voice. He wasn’t sure why he was admitting this to the Winchesters instead of acting ignorant. Maybe he just wanted to get a rise out of Dean. If that was his goal it definitely worked.

“You did what?” the older Winchester growled, clenching his hands into fists.

“But she didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Sam insisted, his heart breaking to know that the girl they worked so hard to save was dead. “How did you even find her?” Ketch finally looked up and leveled a stern gaze at Sam.

“The Old Men were keeping tabs on you. They wanted to see if you would clean up after yourselves so they sent me to check if you had taken care of things appropriately.”

“So you killed a nineteen-year-old girl? You’re a psychotic maniac!” Dean shouted.

“Well that’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Ketch shot back angrily. “Which of us became a demon and started the apocalypse multiple times? Oh, that’s right, it was you!”

“Yeah but I don’t kill innocent kids and any mistakes I made were due to my own choices. You don’t even know how to think for yourself. You have to follow orders from your stuffy superiors and that evil red-headed bitch.” He’d never met Dr. Hess but he’d heard about her from Sam and he was almost disappointed he hadn’t gotten the chance to shoot her himself.

“There’s a difference between being mindless and knowing your place,” the Brit shouted in response. “A difference that you clearly need to learn. I suppose daddy dearest was too busy drinking to teach you that before he died.”

“Don’t you dare bring my father into this!” Dean called out, his voice even louder than before. He launched up from his chair and over to the bed to punch Ketch in the face.

“That’s enough!” Mary shouted, finally joining the conversation. She was letting things go when the fighting first started but now that things were getting physical it was time to step in. She moved over and grabbed Dean, doing her best to hold him back before Ketch got a chance to return the blow. Dean allowed himself to be pulled away but shook himself out of his mother’s grasp. “Would someone please explain to me what is going on?”

“After you left to...get some space, we took on a case that ended up involving a psychic girl,” Sam said, knowing his brother would be seething too much to explain. “She was being horribly abused by her parents and was just calling out for help. She didn’t even realize she was hurting people. So we saved her and sent her to live with a relative. Apparently she didn’t make the trip.”

“Is this true, Arthur?”

“Yes. I had orders to check up on the family and see if the Winchesters were able to finish the job,” Ketch said. “If they weren’t, I was to take care of the situation.” Mary sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was going to be hard for her to keep defending Ketch from her boys if these types of situations continued coming to light.

“Would you do that now?” Mary asked after a moment to think. “If a similar thing happened and we told you not to kill the person would you still go after them?” She couldn’t change what had been done in the past and they were all going to have to accept that if this situation was going to work out.

“Seriously? How many chances are you going to give this guy?” Dean shouted. 

“Does it even matter?” Ketch asked, sounding bored. “I’m never going to be able to convince you all to see things my way.”

“At least now you’re talking sense,” Dean quipped with a sneer, making Ketch growl a little.

“The whole idea of this arrangement was to help Arthur see a different way of doing things so he can do better in the future,” Mary insisted. “We can’t fault him for things he did in the past.”

“And why not?”

“Dean, in that...dream thing before...you...you forgave me,” Mary said quietly, trying a different approach. “You said you forgave me for making the deal with Azazel all those years ago. If you can forgive that…”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Dean hissed, pointing a firm finger at the woman standing in front of him. “That is a low blow and you know it. That is not the same.”

“That deal was the catalyst for every bad thing that’s ever happened in your life.” Mary felt tears welling up in her eyes a little as she thought about how much pain she had caused her boys because of her selfishness. 

“You know what? We’re not having this conversation,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket off a nearby chair. “Come on, Sam. I’m hungry.” Without waiting for a response the older Winchester stormed to the door, completely ignoring his mother and Ketch. “Are you coming, Sammy?” he asked when he was in the doorway.

“Uh…” Sam looked briefly between his mother and brother, clearly torn about having to choose a side in this fight. “Yeah, coming.” He stood up and followed his brother out. Before the door to the motel room closed he sent his mom a quick apologetic look.

After a minute the rumbling sound of the Impala could be heard as the car drove away.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize I’ve just completely skipped over everything with Cas and Kelly/Jack. I might get back to that eventually. Otherwise this is canon divergent anyway so just pretend it didn’t happen or something. XD


	6. Chapter 6

Ketch sat on the edge of one of the motel room beds. Sam and Dean were still out wherever they had gone off to and Mary had decided to take a shower so Ketch was left to his own thoughts; something that could be rather dangerous.

He’d been thinking a lot recently about how much he wished that Mick was still around. He had always been better at any type of emotional situations. The poor boy had never quite fit in with the Men of Letters and Ketch had a similar problem when he was first dropped off at Kendricks which was part of why they had bonded. Mick learned to fit in though, and Ketch was forced into his role from a young age. The man had never felt like he was unhappy with his position before though. The training itself had not always been enjoyable but once he realized how special and important his position was he was willing to do whatever was necessary to maintain it. Dr. Hess had even said she was considering leaving him in charge in America once the hunters were dealt with. But then the Winchesters had to go and ruin everything.

It was his own fault really; Ketch was well aware of that. He should have just shot Toni and those blasted plaid-wrapped nightmares. He’d done exactly what he’d warned people about and underestimated the Winchesters and it came back to bite him.

Although, in reality, things had been going downhill ever since Mick had gone on a hunt with the brothers. It made him question the Elders and put Ketch in the dreaded position of having to kill one of the few people he had ever once considered a friend. It wasn’t the first time he killed someone he had personal connections with of course, but it was the first time he actually felt just a hint of regret about it.

“You would have deserved this chance so much more than I, old chap,” Ketch said wistfully. He knew he shouldn’t be there. Mary had made a mistake and was too naive to do anything about it. He was in an uncomfortable limbo though because as much as he wanted to just take down the Winchesters and continue on his mission, there was also a small part of him that craved the sense of belonging he’d never truly experienced before. 

Ketch had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t paid attention to the sound of the running water stopping. A minute later Mary walked out of the bathroom. She was dressed in jeans and a maroon t-shirt and stood in the bedroom as she towel dried her hair.

“Do you want to order some dinner?” Mary asked. “Or we could go out. I think I saw a Mexican place nearby if you’re into that.”

“You can order something if you'd like. I'm sure you want to be here whenever Sam and Dean return so you can have a heartfelt reunion or whatever it is you do,” Ketch replied without much heat behind his words. Mary huffed a laugh.

“They're big boys,” she said. “If I'm not here when they get back they can handle waiting for a little bit.”

“Fine. Then I suppose whatever low-rate restaurant is close to a motel such as this one will have better food than a delivery place.” Mary rolled her eyes playfully at Ketch’s very backhanded compliment and walked over to put on her shoes.

 

************************

 

The restaurant was actually surprisingly nice when Mary and Ketch got there. It wasn't a five star establishment but it was clean, elegant, and relatively upscale. There were a number of other customers sitting around at the different tables but not enough for it to be overly loud.

“So I have a question,” Mary said after she and Ketch had placed their orders.

“Hmm?” Ketch said simply, taking a sip of his water.

“What was Kendricks like?” Mary thought it was a relatively harmless question but she noticed the man across from her stiffen a bit when he heard it.

“Still interested in ‘getting to know each other’ I see,” was all he said at first. It would have sounded perfectly normal to anyone else but Mary had spent enough time with the man to be able to tell that his voice was a little tight.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Mary said in a rush. “If it’s a sore subject we can just talk about something else. I’m sure today has been stressful enough already.” Ketch sat silently for a moment and then let out a small sigh.

“No, it’s alright.” He was warring with himself a bit. He didn’t want to open up to Mary; it was everything he’d been trained not to do. At the same time, however, he recognized that he was no longer answering to Dr. Hess or the Old Men. While he hated to admit it, Mary was doing so much for him. It was only fair he give her something in return. “As you already know the British Men of Letters as an organization operates differently than you American hunters,” he began to explain. “Education at Kendricks is split into different tracks, each with its own focus. There are some basic lessons and requirements for all students to learn of course but beyond those different students learn different things based on their individual skills.”

“So like college in America,” Mary suggested, making sure she was following along because she could tell this conversation would be important.

“Precisely,” Ketch agreed. “I was, quite quickly, put on the assassin track. I was sent there due to acts of violence so it’s not a big surprise that’s what they wanted me to focus on. I wasn’t just trained to hunt and kill though. The few of us on the track were taught to do anything the administrators wouldn’t want to get their hands dirty with.”

“Like interrogation,” Mary said, thinking back to the time with the shifter.

“That was one aspect of it, yes.”

“Did you...did you practice on each other?” Ketch raised an eyebrow. He had been prepared for Mary to ask questions but that wasn’t one of the ones he had expected.

“Where would you get that idea from?”

“There was something you said, after that time you interrogated that shifter. I’d completely forgotten about it until now,” Mary said, explaining her thought process. She paused for a second to see if Ketch could remember what she was talking about.

“That anyone who tells you torture is never the answer hasn’t been under the knife,” the Brit said, realizing where this inquiry was going.

“It didn’t sound like you were saying that just as a generalization.”

“Yes, well, they had to make sure we could handle intense questioning if we were ever captured. They also repeatedly tested us to make sure we would follow orders and they weren’t particularly nice if we ever made a mistake during our studies.” Ketch said the words as if the situation was perfectly normal and Mary was horrified at how accepting he was about how he’d been treated.

Mary wanted to say something in response but at that moment the waiter came over with their food and the open moment they had been sharing was gone.

 

************************

 

Ketch took one more look around the dark motel room as he quietly zipped up his duffle bag. Once he and Mary had gotten back from dinner and he saw how hard she had to work to get Sam and Dean to understand her choices earlier he’d made up his mind. He didn’t belong with them, no matter what Mary said. He’d waited until everyone was asleep--Sam and Dean in one room and himself and Mary in another--and then got ready. He wrote out a very brief note and left it on the nightstand with the cheap cell phone they’d gotten him so that they wouldn’t be able to track him.

I’m not going to be the cause of a rift forming between you and your sons, Mary. Not again, Ketch thought to himself as he stared at the sleeping woman. He’d already done enough damage. It was time for him to go.

Ketch picked up his bag, grabbed Mary’s car keys from the small kitchen table, and headed off into the night.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to include the comment about Ketch leaving the boys in the bunker because that was so stupid and seemed a bit OOC.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Sorry it’s been so long between updates. College this semester has just been draining my time and creativity. This chapter is on the shorter side but it’s set up for a more plot heavy chapter ;)

Sam knocked lightly on the open bedroom door, a cup of tea held in his other hand.

“Hey, Mom,” he said. “Wanted to see how you were feeling.” It had been three days since Ketch had disappeared. They tried searching for the man but couldn’t find him so the three Winchesters had finished the hunt on their own and then returned to the bunker.

“I’ve been better,” Mary answered honestly. She was sitting on her bed and gratefully accepted the offered drink. Sam gave a small smile and then moved to sit on the edge of the desk. “I know you and Dean don’t believe it, but there is another side to Ketch. Reasons why he is the way he is,” she insisted. “I thought I was doing the right thing trying to help him but I guess I was wrong.” She took a sip of the warm tea and then stared down into the cup.

“I get it, Mom. I do,” Sam said with a sad smile. “I always want to save everyone; have since I was a kid. Hell, maybe you’re right and there is something in Ketch that’s worth saving. It’s just...Dean and I, we’ve been hurt so many times before that it’s gotten harder for us to trust people,” he explained. “Ketch isn’t family and he kills innocent people without care. Usually that’s enough for us to go after someone.”

“It wasn’t by choice though,” Mary said. “They brainwashed and abused him. I don’t even know half of what they put him through but even what little he has told me is more than anyone should have to deal with. They literally tortured him repeatedly to turn him into the perfect tool for their war against monsters.”

“‘Individual human beings are all tools, that the others use to help us all survive.’”

“What?” Mary asked, confusion clear on her face.

“It’s a quote from a book, Ender’s Game.” At his mother’s blank stare Sam thought for a moment and realized the problem. “It...uh...it was published in 1985 so…”

“So it was after I died,” Mary finished for him. Sam didn’t need to respond to that.

“Anyway, it’s a story about a kid the government takes and trains him to be their hero for an upcoming war in space. There wasn’t real brainwashing or torture but they did push him to the absolute limits of mental and physical stamina so that he would be able to wipe out the enemy,” Sam said, explaining the basic premise of the novel. “I hadn’t had a reason to think of it before but with what you just said, I can almost see a connection.” Mary nodded, seeing where there could be some similarities.

“Look, I’m not trying to excuse what he’s done,” she said resolutely. “It’s just, after working with him for a while I feel like I at least owe him a fair chance. He saved my ass, now it’s my turn.” Sam was silent for a minute while he thought things over.

“Alright,” he said finally. “So then let’s go find him. I’ll call Rowena. Ketch is most likely doing everything he can to cover his tracks and Rowena will know stronger tracking spells than we do.” Mary gave a small smile. She still wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing but it felt nice to at least have some support this time.

 

************************

 

“Explain again why you boys need my help?” Rowena asked once she had arrived at the bunker a few hours later. “I’m sure you can handle a tracking spell on your own.”

“This isn’t your average John Doe,” Sam explained. “Ketch has superior training in multiple fields, including some magic. We need something better than a typical tracking spell.”

“Ketch?” Rowena questioned, her face quickly turning pale. “You...you don’t mean Arthur Ketch, do you?”

“Uh, yeah. What’s it to you?” Dean asked. He was kicked back in a chair in the war room with his feet propped up on the table. Mary was standing next to him and Sam was sitting on the other side of the table.

“We had dealings together years ago. I was captured by the Men of Letters. That horrible man was in charge of getting information from me.”

“Well right now he’s missing and we want to find him so that he won’t hurt anyone else,” Sam said. “We can handle that part but we need your help for the spell.”

“Fine. I will help ye on one condition,” Rowena conceded. “Once the spell is done you’ll let me go on my way and you cannae tell Ketch that I was here.” Sam and Dean shared a look. 

“Alright,” Dean said after getting a nod of approval from Sam. “If he asks we’ll just say we found the spell in the library or something.”

“Thank you.” Sam knew the situation must be a serious one if Rowena was willing to go as far as thanking them.

“So what ingredients do you need?”

 

************************

 

It took nearly forty minutes but eventually Rowena had Ketch’s location pinpointed to Wichita, Kansas. 

“Seriously? We’ve been sitting around and he’s only three hours away?” Dean asked with annoyance. 

“He is very heavily warded as ye expected,” Rowena told them. “Now that you have yer information I’m leaving.” She picked up her bag and started walking to the door. “You own me, Winchesters,” she called over her shoulder.

“So what’s our plan?” Mary asked once Rowena had left.

“We hightail it to Wichita and hope Ketch hasn’t gone to another town yet,” Dean replied.

“I’ll get the tranquilizer darts,” Sam said, standing up from the table.

“We’re not going to tranquilize him,” Mary insisted. Ketch had problems but that suggestion was still bothersome.

“Just as a precaution, Mom,” Sam assured her. “The last thing we need is for him to run away and be completely lost to us. If he knows we’re looking for him next time he’ll go a lot farther than Wichita.”

“Fine, but we try talking to him first,” she responded. Sam nodded.

“Grab whatever you need for the trip and meet back here in ten minutes,” Dean said. “Let’s hit the road.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading Ender’s Game for school recently and couldn’t stop making comparisons to my head canon about Ketch’s origins. Figured Sam would be geeky enough to know the story well.
> 
> By the way, I only anticipate there being two or three more chapters left for this story and I’ll do my best to finish as soon as I can!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay. School really drained my time and creativity this semester. Thanks for your patience!

“Now that we have some time, why don’t you tell us more about why we’re doing this?” Dean asked, giving his mom a look in the rearview mirror. Sam had convinced him to give this a chance but he still felt like he deserved a more thorough explanation.

“I don’t know everything,” Mary admitted again. “I did learn about some of their brainwashing and torture techniques though. Both through my own experiences and from some stories Arthur told me about his past.”

“Mick told us a few things too when we went on a hunt with him,” Sam said, trying to back his mother up a little. He didn’t necessarily like Ketch, but he understood what pain and sorrow and torture could do to a person. Some people would break under the pressure and others would become cold and withdrawn and cut off their feelings to stop the pain.

“He was abandoned by his parents you know. They just dropped him at Kendricks when he was ten and left him there,” Mary continued. “That night in the hotel before he disappeared, Arthur had a nightmare. He didn’t know I was awake but I heard him cry out in his sleep for them to stop hurting him. Then he sat up in bed for a while whispering to himself to calm down and ‘forget about Dr. Hess’ treatment sessions.’” 

Dean didn’t say anything but when Mary caught his gaze in the rearview mirror she could see that he had paled a little. After a few minutes to process the new information he finally spoke up. “How do you know we can fix this though? It sounds like he went through a lot more than you and Mick.”

“I don’t,” Mary replied truthfully. “I think the fact that you two were able to change Mick’s mind in such a short amount of time says a lot for Arthur’s chances though. He wants to be better. He just doesn’t know how.” Dean grunted but didn’t argue.

 

************************

 

Dean pulled off the highway three hours and twelve minutes after they had left the bunker. “Luckily Wichita isn’t a hot tourist attraction so there shouldn’t be too many places for us to check,” he said. “Grab the FBI badges, Sammy.” 

Sam took out the box with all of their fake IDs and dug through to find the ones they needed. “We might need to update these soon,” he joked. “Been a few years since we took these pictures.” 

“Next time we have a break from trying to save the world we can worry about updating our headshots,” Dean responded. “Alright, everyone look for hotel signs.”

The first three spots were a bust and Dean was starting to get tired of the search when they parked at the fourth. 

“Maybe fourth time’s the charm,” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood a little. They were all drained and on edge which wasn’t a good sign. He hoped this location would be the one they needed because they might not last much longer. 

The three Winchesters exited the car and walked through the doors to the office. The building was a bit nicer than their usual lodgings but was still a motel. Normally they wouldn’t think the suave, British assassin would be willing to stay somewhere like this but the fact that it was out of character potentially made it a better hiding spot.

“Hi. I’m Agent Smith, these are my associates, Agent Benedict and Agent Jones,” Dean told the tired looking man behind the desk. He held up his badge and forced a smile. “We’re looking for someone and were hoping you’d be able to help. Have you seen this man?” He handed over his phone that was open to a picture of Ketch.

“Yeah,” the man answered quickly. He paused for a second trying to remember where Ketch was staying. “Guy’s in room 14. Been here for a few days. Very quiet and secluded, I don’t think I’ve seen him leave the room much. He seems nice enough though. Is he in trouble?”

“No trouble. He’s just a witness in an investigation and we have a few more questions for him,” Sam said with a smile. “Thanks for your help.” Sam, Dean, and Mary promptly exited the office and started walking down the path to find the room they needed.

“Maybe I should go first,” Mary said when they were standing outside room 14. “He tends to react better to me.” Sam and Dean nodded, although it was clear by the look on his face that Dean wasn’t totally happy about the idea. Mary gave her boys a small smile and then stepped up and knocked on the door. “Arthur? It’s me. Can you open the door? I promise I just want to talk to you.” She heard the sound of sock covered feet dragging across carpet and then the lock clicked and the door opened inward a crack.

“We’ll stay right outside for backup,” Sam said.

Mary pushed the door open more and stepped inside the room. To her surprise, the space wasn’t clean and orderly like she expected it would be. There were pizza boxes and beer cans scattered around the room as well as a few empty bottles of top shelf whiskey. The sheets on the bed were ruffled and the contents of a duffle bag were strewn across the small table on the left wall. It took Mary a moment to even find Ketch among the mess. She finally saw him sitting in the far corner of the room with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was dressed in grey socks, black sweatpants, and a white shirt that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a couple days. It was strange to see him looking so different to what she was used to.

“Arthur?” Mary asked, hoping not to frighten the man.

“Hello, Mary,” the man said softly. Mary walked farther into the room and knelt down in front of Ketch. From up close she could see that his hair was messy, he hadn’t shaved recently, and his eyes were focused but a little bloodshot. “How did you find me?” he asked.

“We found the recipe for an advanced tracking spell,” Mary explained. “What happened to you, Arthur?”

“Withdrawal I’m assuming,” he answered simply. He moved his hands up to grip his head tightly. Although they didn’t fall, Mary could see tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Mary.”

The woman shifted over so that she was sitting next to Ketch and leaning against the wall. “Well, you saw me at my breaking point. Guess it’s only fair that I help you through yours,” she said with a sad smile. 

 

************************

 

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked his brother. They were standing far enough away that they couldn’t hear exactly what was being said in Ketch’s room, but close enough that they wouldn’t have any trouble hearing their mother if she called out for help.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean answered. “I want to just hate the guy and shoot him for everything he’s done, but at the same time I’m starting to recognize that a lot of it may have been due to things outside of his control. We’ve let monsters go before because they had been in bad circumstances and we thought they could do better.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah I feel the same way. It’s really tough.” He leaned back against the motel’s stucco wall. “I guess the question is just if he really can manage to see things our way. We were willing to give Mick a second chance even after he killed Hayden.”

“To be fair, Mick didn’t abduct our mother and try to brainwash her.”

“True.”

Dean sighed. “If he really was tortured as much as mom said, then I guess I’d be willing to give the guy another chance. I still think we should have just shot him originally and saved ourselves all this trouble, but since he’s alive then it’s worth a try.”

 

************************

 

“I feel so confused,” Ketch admitted. Everything was out of control and he didn’t know what to think or believe. “I’ve been having nightmares about Kendricks recently. That hasn’t happened in decades.”

“I know. I heard you that night in the hotel.” Mary turned her head and looked at Ketch. He looked a lot like the scared, little boy who had been abandoned by his parents and dropped off at a mysterious school. “We can figure this out, Arthur. I know it’s probably hard to believe that right now but I think it’s true.”

“Before...before I shot Mick, he said that he obeyed Dr. Hess as a child because he owed her everything but now he was a man and could see the choices he didn’t see before.” Ketch wasn’t entirely sure why he was sharing that story but it was something that had stuck with him.

Mary shifted again to lean her head back against the wall and stare up at the blank, white ceiling. “Do you see those choices now?” she asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Ketch answer honestly. “I suppose I see some benefits to your methods. I doubt you would ever order me to kill a friend.” He was about to say more but then he arched his back and cried out in pain.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?” Mary asked, concern clear in her gaze.

“The withdrawal I mentioned,” Ketch replied through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes and panted as his body tried to work through the pain. After a minute or two he let out a deep breath and Mary could see his muscles relax. “One of the drugs is designed to cause negative side effects to make sure I want to keep letting them treat me with it,” Ketch explained once he could talk more easily again. “I’m not sure how long it will last but I can only hope that it won’t be permanent.”

Mary paled at the calm way Ketch talked about his mistreatment. “What did they do to you?”

“I believe ‘what didn’t they do to me’ would be an easier question to answer.” Ketch opened his eyes and shrugged as if the situation was a normal one. “They did what they needed to in order to get the results they wanted; a strong fighter who wouldn’t mind getting his hands dirty and would always follow orders.”

“If you come back to the bunker with us maybe we can find some type of cure,” Mary offered.

Ketch shook his head. “I doubt you will be able to find a remedy because this most likely isn’t a known substance.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I...I think I would like to go back with you though. If that offer still stands. I won’t lie and say I agree completely with your methods, but I do see that things aren’t always as clear cut as I was told. Right now I still agree with a lot of the Code, but...I want to be different. For you. For...for Mick.”

Mary stood up and held out her hand to help Ketch off the floor. “You go shower and change and I’ll clean up in here,” she offered. Ketch did as instructed and ten minutes later stepped out of the bathroom in clean clothes and with his hair combed. Mary had tidied up the room as much as she could in the short time and also packed up Ketch’s duffle bag.

“What’s the verdict?” Dean asked when he saw his mom and Ketch come back out of the motel room. 

“If you’ll have me, I’d like to join you and learn another way to do things,” Ketch replied, shifting uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to caring about people’s opinions of him. If the Winchesters said ‘no’ he didn’t know what else he could do.

Sam stared at the man across from him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was lying or had an ulterior motive. After he was satisfied he glanced over at his brother and saw Dean give a slight nod. “Alright,” the younger Winchester said with a small smile. “Then let’s go home.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end. It's been a wild ride and I really appreciate all of you who have gone on this journey with me! I hope you've enjoyed the story!! <3


End file.
